Hummel Quest Tales: Sun's Gate
by Alac
Summary: Aproximatively 15 years before the Hummelquest events, a group well organized tanks defend their territory in the mountains. Their defence had never failed, but nothing last forever.
1. An Usual Battle

It was a cold day.

The place was the _Sun's gate_; quite pleasant mountain zone. People were rushing; HQ received a report from the scout indicating multiple unknown tanks moving into our territory. As usual, we were outnumbered, but we always had the advantage of our beloved landscape. The Centurions and the Patton were discussing the defense plan, what trap to use, where deploy and when to attack. I had no doubt about the outcome. There was only one road they could use to come, one of those mountain road bordering on a steep rock face on one side and a scary drop on the other, and this would be where they would die.

Since our creation we excelled in traps and ambush, and since we were up here our losses have been almost null. We had a hard time in the middle land though. Plains, farmlands and lakes are no easy places to defend. Our guns had a long range, yes, and we were trained to use it, but we had nowhere to take cover once we fired, and placing traps in those lands was completely ineffective.

So we trapped the cities as much as we could and left. Yes, cities are easy to defend, but we can be easily surrounded, so staying was not an option, as our leaders told us. In addition, cities are huge blocks of buildings in the green land, and many enemies would investigate to see what they can find.

Well, they found our traps. Our rather, our traps found them.

We got word from the AMX 13 teams, scouting somewhere down our mountains sometimes, reporting tales of how enemy tanks fell for that booby trap, and how they mostly destroyed themselves thinking the trap they triggered was actually friendly fire.

But…

Sometimes, the scout team was returning in tears and a tank was missing. That was our cold reminder of the reality. The reality of the war. Fortunately that was not frequent. Less frequent than battles at least. The battles were mostly short and flawlessy executed, our plans never failed to surprise the enemy, but there was always something that could go wrong. Yes, this was war.

Our forces were probably not the best of the world. The Old Ones talked about how our ancient civilisation was really different, and how « war budget » and « logistics » made our commander buy us. I didn't understand all of this, but apparently back then we weren't conscious. We were mostly Hetzers, and a few Centurions. Our commander Patton - again this is what I was told - was bought to be tested. As we only found two - one died defending our retreat from the plains - I assumed that the Pattons didn't passed that « test ». And for the same « budget and logistics » problem, we had AMX 13s.

So Hetzers we were, but not regular Hetzers. Again I'm talking about things I never really understood, but we ended up with a nice 7.5cm KwK 40 gun, and some of us even got a diesel engine. Yeah, that wasn't such a great and powerful army as other clans may display. However not a single tier ten made it through our lines.

The only reported breakthrough were lights and fast tanks, taking dangerous shortcuts and found some days after, down a cliff or frozen to death.

There's a reason why we only use a handful of roads, others are too dangerous for tanks. That's where the Old Ones' version makes sense. Why were all those path built if even the lighter tanks cannot use them?

All those stories are stuck in my head and I cannot stop thinking about them. They make so much sense but there's this lack of evidence… And why did that mysterious other civilisation disappear? On the other hand, why would tanks have built those things we cannot use ?

Anyway; the HQ was ready, the plan to welcome the new immigrants was as well. Winter would be here soon and that was probably our last battle before spring. Then we'd have some happy and quiet days again.

The battle was going to be one kilometer after the mountain pass in our direction. Only one trap was to be activated, as we had a short amout of time to rearm traps before the snow. We had to take specific positions, as usual.

As usual, the Patton and the Centurions were right in the middle of the road, waiting, and way after them the red and white wooden barrier was placed. The AMX were closer to the objective, but hidden and they had a quick escape road in case something should go wrong.

One of our two engineer tanks (they were modified Centurions chassis) had the radio command for the trap and the activation code. We still could shoot in the trap to activate it, but why waste a shell when we can do it by radio?

We took positions as planned and waited. One AMX on one of the highest observation points eventually reported the incomming threat. He could count up to 37 tanks. That was a lot; we were only 19 tanks in total here.

But that number would soon change to a disadventage. The countdown was running, and soon the same AMX could identify some of the tanks.

Even if all the tanks were not known, there was nothing higher than tier seven. There was still a lot of tanks though, but unknown tier sevens were easier to stop than unknown tier tens.

Apparently, the pack was led by an AMX M4. That was not a heavily armored tank, so we could handle that easy, and the rest of the pack was other french tanks as well.

After that report, HQ decided the scout had done his job and could head home. He carefully moved away from the enemy's pack and rushed to the base to have some food and rest.

The rest of us stuck to the plan. According to the scout's data, there was only a few minutes before they were in our sight. Those minutes were long, as for every battle the pressure was high, because we shouldn't fail; we COULDN'T fail. Even if it wasn't my first battle I still had that strange feeling in the engine.

And finally, something appeared on the mountain pass. They didn't notice anything. They were rolling along obliviously and the scout reported careless chatting.

Apparently they were not aware of our presence.

They couldn't ignore the fact that this territory was sharply defended, but they probably thought this path would be okay. Again, some scouts got the order to go home. Their job was done for the most part, and only the most experienced stayed, to report the aftermath and analyze the battle's course.

When they saw the red and white barrier, the scout reported that they had gone quiet and somehow anxious. They were realizing we were actually there, and they were not as safe as they thought. Probably they thought they could pass through this mountain and we would be defending either a city in the valley or the mountains on the other side of the valley, and that they could resupply and rest at a town, but now their path was blocked in the high mountains. Going back would be a huge waste of time and fuel, but they had no choice. We left no other choice. As the AMX M4 reached and stopped at the barrier, our commander took their usual role and broadcasted their message on most commons radio channel.

«**YOU ARE IN THE DEFENDED AND GUARDED TERRITORY OF THE CONFEDERATIO HELVETICA. YOU ARE SURROUNDED. TURN BACK NOW, OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES.**»

For stealth purposes, the scout had turned his radio off before the message, and soon quickly contacted our HQ to report the enemy got the message. Now, we were waiting for their reaction. If they fell back, if they really fell back, then we wouldn't even have to risk anything. But if they didn't, sadly they were going to face the consequences. Carefully, the AMX M4 pulled up the barrier with his gun. Once the barrier opened, he sent a short radio message.

«**What now?**» he asked.

As he did this, our three command tanks turned their lights on, making them brightly visible on the mountain road. The whole pack who could see them immediatly pointed their guns at them.This was the most dangerous part of the plan, but this part was only executed when risk can be taken, and they were not really dangerous. They had poor accuracy, which also meant they had low penetration at high range.

The Patton answered as curtly as the AMX :

«**FINAL WARNING. TURN BACK. NOW.**»

Sadly, the AMX didn't listen. In his arrogance, he crossed the barrier, still looking at the three tanks down the road. That, the simple fact that he crossed the « border », was the signal.

Without waiting any longer, everybody opened fire. The target was not of a great importance, their AMX M4 was in front and was going to be the first to recieve our welcome gift, no matter what. Perfectly coordinated, the ten Hetzers shot the invaders. Our carefully planned position made it so that every shell would reach the barrier at the same time. And except for one of us who fired a split second late, all our shell reached the pack at the same time. As suspected, the AMX took most of the shots. Six out of the ten shots hit him. As he was on the border line, ever shell got him at the same time, combining to a huge blast.

Through the expected randomness, one shell tracked him, one other ripped through the gun mantlet, making vertical movement impossible, and one third shell penetrated the lower glacis. The shock turned the tank around, about thirty degree. For the 4 shells left, each found their target.

A little AMX 12t has been ripped open and died.

One other shell found a way through an ARL V39, severly damaging it and breaking a track.

The third shot, shot from the best position, got the side of an ARL 44, but didn't cause any apparent damage.

The last shot hit the back of the enemy, killing their only SPG, an AMX 13 AM.

Panic broke out among the survivors. For those who were still able to to shoot and hadn't lost their cool, we had several shots in store; a few fell around our HQ.

Now, we were reloading, watching the pack going crazy.

The poor AMX M4 did his best to not show his pain to the others, but he had much to endure. With his track down and gun gun mantlet damaged, he couldn't do anything other than take the shots to protect his soldiers. Some of them were not only panicked by the shots but also by the poor condition their leader was left after only «one» shot. The fact that every shell had arrived together had made it seem like a single shot to them.

Only the M4, who had taken six of them, understood. As he was fighting the pain, he told to the others to fall back or hide. Everything happened so quickly, and nobody saw where the shots were coming from, so hiding or falling back was the only solution; plus the tracked AMX blocked the way.

Sadly, that was not our plans. Not exactly. We would let a few tanks escape. Some quick and not dangerous tanks like the ELCs or whatever would achieve to fall back to the other side of the mountain first. Then, the TRV would activate the trap. As expected, those stubborn French would not fall back that easy and most tried to fight back and help their leader. Of course, they could only try to shoot back, but they just shot in random directions trying to scare us off. Although they're stubborn, they are also cowards, and some did indeed fall back.

Our AMX was on the radio, ready to signal the TRV. One ELC, two AMX 12t and a S-35CA were about to get to the other side. By this time, we had all reloaded, and now we were shooting independently, causing a huge echo across the mountain, making it even more difficult to localise our firing positions. Shooting panicked targets was of course harder, but now, hitting was not the point. This second salve was only to freak them out more. And hell, they freaked out.

Some even accidentally threw themselves down the cliff. Although three of our shots hit something, killing the agonised ARL V39 on the occasion and crippling the poor leader even more, most fell in the ground or hit the cliff next to the road where they were trapped.

As they got shot, the engineer tank triggered the trap, and a dozen of tree trunks fell from the cliff over their head. With the sound of our shots and the mayhem they produced, they hardly noticed their fast incoming death. Picking up speed from rolling down the cliff, the trunks hit the pack hard, pushing most of them over the sharp edge of the road. Those who didn't fall were crushed against each other, stunned and gravely damaged. The battle was almost over.

Our scout reported only a few survivors. Still under the trunks were the AMX M4, the ARL 44, an ELC and a few AMX 13s, lucky enough to be trapped between the trunks and the heavy tanks.

The Centurions took their shots. They gave the final blow to the french commander. The Patton wasn't really accurate so he started moving forward. Order had been given to our AMX to watch over the tanks and kill those who'd represented a threat, but as the only undamaged tank was an ELC, and the trunks completely blocked him, our scout reported the threat terminated.

Looking to the mountain pass he saw the fleeing tanks trying to peek, so he took a shot next to them, spurring on their escape.

Our 3 commanders drove to the huge mess. The engineer tank of the operation had been asked to come as well, and volunteer Hetzers could come too. As always, I went to help my friends with the cleanup. First thing we did was confirming the shape of their commander, and he was indeed cold dead. We couldn't tell what killed him, the trunks or the Centurions hits, but he was no longer in this world.

Second thing was to make sure the survivors would not fight back. So while they were stuck, we put a kind of lock on their guns. Those locks were only disabling their gun, so if they shot they would damaged themselves, but that was protection enough for us, and there was hardly anywhere to flee.

Once that was done, we cleared the road of the trunks and replaced those we could up in the trap. The whole HQ took charge of the prisoners and escorted them to the hospital. Us Hetzers were left here to clean the road from the wrecks. That was the most horrific, yet morbidly fascinating part. On one hand, you face the horror of death. Ripped steel sheets, exploded compenents, crushed turrets… But on the other hand, you could scavenge a lot of usefull pieces on those wrecks. I loved that and didn't miss an occasion to enhance my gear or change a worn piece. Also I spared parts for my friends and more particulary for the AMX team. Those 4 tanks were the only we had here, and we didn't have a lot of spare pieces. We Hetzers had a lot of them, while not always better than what we had before we could always repair ourselves, but not the AMX.

This day the loot was not really for me, but we found a lot for our scouts. Not big surprise though, we shot french tanks. And for me, what I found was more than enough. We also took all the fuel and other consumable we could. The ARL 44 died from a trunk hit. He turned out to be a cargo carrier. The house-like turret could have given us a clue. It was modified for a higher storing place. Some of the cargo was lost with the few shots he got, but we could still get some fuel, oil, a bunch of spare parts and some brand new cables, even a can with a little of high octane fuel. We also found two brooms so we could clean the road. Once everything we could take to the base was gathered, we pushed the wrecks down the cliff, cleaned the road from bits and pieces and went home.

After storing the loot, which represented a good part of the winter supply for us now, I went to the hospital to check the survivors. Although the ELC was not severly damaged, he was terribly shocked, and would probably be traumatised for the rest of his life. We kept him to watch over him for a while. Of the three survivng AMX 13, one died in our care and was sent into the metal pit with his old comrades.

The engineers talked about the mantlet having been rammed into the hull by a trunk. My engine went freezing cold thinking about it. Thank god I didn't see him suffering. The two others were indeed gravely damaged. One got the gun bent so much a crack was clearly visible, and the turret ring also suffered. The other had «only» the engine and transmission damaged. The repair would take some time, but anyway they were stuck here for the winter.

None of the survivors could talk yet. Shocked or unconscious, all of them probably would forever remember that day. And all of them would be pursued by the memory of their friends being massacred. A horrible fate.

Yet who should be blamed? That was none of my concern; for me their leader made a mistake that led the pack to their doom. We warned them, why didn't they listen and turn back?

But then again after all, this was war.


	2. The Dangers of the Snow

The snow had arrived.

It was only a few days after the battle. We had the time to rearm the trap correctly, gathering just the right amount of trunks needed, recplacing the missing and broken ones with ones freshly cut in the forest. The Sun's Gate is a nice place to be, quiet, with a pleasing landscape, some forest are growing there, but our base was just too high up for the trees to grow. The ground here is mostly rocks and some lifeless dirt. It is the border between the eternal snow and the vegetation. Too cold for plants to grow, too hot for snow to stay in summer.

At this time, the winter had landed his white coat. A thick layer of snow, about two meters in average, was covering the area. Tanks fear snow. It gets into your tracks, and the more you try to get rid of it, the harder it becomes, until it is compressed enough to become blocks of ice. The cold hurts the engine and we cough all the time. If this wasn't enough, add our landscape. In winter it looks as beautiful as it is dangerous. Snow is an unstable ground. It slips, you could fall to your death anytime you drive on a slope; it also covers cracks, transforming them into brutally efficient traps, and worst of all, there's the avalanches.

An avalanche is when the snow has accumulated on a slippery surface – for example an old layer of snow that became ice – or when the slope is too big. The huge amount of snow suddenly breaks from whatever was keeping it in place and starts rushing down the mountain. There's mutliple kinds of avalanches, sometime it's just like a block of snow coming down much like the trunks of our trap, but sliding instead of rolling. But the most fearsome are formed by fresh snow. As it didn't has the time to stick together, the snow starts flying as it takes speed, creating monstruous clouds of snow that are rushing faster than any light tank.

Being trapped in an avalanche is a real nightmare and I was glad I never experienced this. Avalanches could be triggered by shocks or just randomly by nature. Shoot once: avalanche. Drive on an instable plate: avalanche. Just shout out: avalanche. You can simply drive on the snow and suddenly everything below your tracks starts sliding away. As your tracks are no longer supported by anything anymore, you go with the snow and even worse, you sink into the snow.

As everything around you moves, your weight pulls you down into the heavy snow. Still without anything under your tracks, you lose track of space and soon won't know if you're upside down or not. Once the snow stops, you are trapped by tons and tons of snow all around you and won't be able to move anymore. If you see any sunlight you may have a chance, but most of the time you are in the cold dark. You could be under meters of snow, you'll have no idea where, and slowly the cold will freeze your compenents. The only thing you can guess is if you're indeed upside down, as your engine will stall and drown in its own fuel.

If you think that was bad already, the cloudy avalanche is even worse.

Inside it looks like a fog, but with a wind so strong it pushes you and the snow around. Inside the cloud, snow being blowed creates snowball like projectiles, from one to twenty centimeters of diameter, and you can guess it will hit you. If you're heavy enough to not be blown away, snow will gradually stick on you. You'll be covered by meters of snow, and you'll be trapped as described before. And as it is not sliding on the ground but flying and jumping, it is not slowed down by anything; those things can reach speed up to 100km/h.

Yet the only known thing to stop an avalanche is a forest. Trees will block the snow and create a nice wall of snow, trunks and tree branches. It is not hundred percent safe insid the forest either, but if there's a forest between you and the avalanche, you are much safer than if there was nothing. Also, the forest will block one avalanche, but the trees are destroyed, so it only works once.

Death by cold is long, but, hopefully, you will not be concious when the worst things would happen. First the engine will lack oxygen, if it is still running. Your battery will progressively lose temperature, as the engine isn't running anymore and nothing warms up the tank. Your vision will fade out and soon you'll be knocked out. Then, ventilation and cooling systems will freeze. Fans would be stuck, cooling liquids might freeze and break their pipes. Even your fuel could freeze, but that's most likely to happend to tanks from hotter places, like south Italy or Africa. Finally, as your battery will continue to grow colder, the internal chemicals will be irreversibly changed by the cold, and your chances of waking up are near zero at this state. You are dead.

But we Hetzers were too light to stick to the ground in case of those avalanches. So _any_ type could kill us, and this was why they were so frightening to us.

Fortunately, we Swiss had developed gear against the dangers of snow. We had special beacons that guide the rescue team if someone was caught in an avalanche. We also had warmers and improved cold protection that helped our engines and batteries not to freeze when going outside, and also helped us survive longer if we were trapped after an avalanche; but if there is no rescue team, there is no hope.

For that rescue, we had something too. I don't know if I could call this a tank, but there was that guy called Ratrak. He had huge special tracks but no armor, nor any weapon. Instead he had this large bulldozer blade, large projectors and lights, and some engineering tools. This guy was pretty sure to survive anything winter could throw at him, but he was not made for war; he could only fight snow. And therefore he was just perfect to search for missing tanks in the snow!

It has been at least 10 years we were based here though, and we were not rookies at handling the snow either. We knew when there was a risk; and we took decisions wisely. Sadly, most of the time things went like we expected, and some of us were taken by avalanches. Thanks to Ratrak, a lot of lives were spared, but sometimes, either it was too late or we never found our friend again. Those were dark time of course, and add to this the fact that the rescue is never either safe from avalanches. I heard stories where three rescue vehicles were taken by surprise by a second avalanche. One didn't survive it. Life with the snow is not an easy life. Dangers are everywhere, but I liked it. I felt safer in a trapped snowy mountain than in a flat, hot, and sandy desert. 


	3. Life under the Snow

Sun's Gate

Chapter 3: The base

I went to check on the survivors again. They were slowly recovering. Unlike most of the tanks healed here, they were injured by war. We had to give them special care instead of just warming them up like avalanche victims and send them back with some tips to not be caught again. The AMX were no longer in a critical condition, but only one had recovered enough to answer our questions.

"Please declare name, nation and clan's name", I said in a more than formal voice.

"M-My name's Alphonse, I'm French and my clan..."

He started sobbing at the though of his friends.

"Your clan leader made a huge mistake. You were all warned" I answered. "Clan's name" I insisted.

"L-Les Chasseurs de Pigalle..." he finally said.

"Good. What was your goal, what were you doing up there?"

His look was empty, he did not move or answer.

"Okay, listen. I will let you rest for a while. You are a prisoner of war, you're bound to stay here until we decide otherwise. You will not be tortured. You will be fed and kept warm. Please, use this time to rest and mourn your clan."

I quietly left the sobbing AMX and went to check the other tank. He was still pretty shocked, and the engineer said it would take a while. I had nothing else to do, and I am pretty bad at cheering people up, but that was not my business, neither my purpose. I went back to the living room and spent time like we always do in winter. Playing cards, looking through the periscopes, preparing dinners, eating and sleeping. Winter was really calm for us. Our base was built in the mountain, made of thick concrete walls. The snow covered the few visible traces, like the entrances and the shooting stands. We only had periscopes to peek and see what was happening outside. In case of emergency we also had some firing places with an indoor access and nice protections. Sometimes when the weather was good and the HQ was okay with it, we could go out to take deep breath of fresh air, sun light and the awesome view of the snowy mountain. Of course we were not allowed to go really far, because of the avalanches and other dangers. But going out once for a while was really pleasant, and somehow essential for the troops' moral. Being trapped inside a concrete bunker for six months is hard to endure.

However, I was one of the few to have real work inside, which made the time go faster for me. I was in charge of the prisoners and avalanche victims when we had some, and I was helping the engineers with the scavenged pieces. I got used to it and quickly got mechanics knowledge, so the engineers liked having me around to help. Plus I was a combat vehicle, so I had the possibility to scavenge the wrecks of our foes myself, taking useful parts, instead of just what looks like could be good or fun. Therefore I was also asked if this or that was valuable or just scrap.

But that day was a Sunday. Only extra work on Sunday, which meant only take care of the prisoners. In the living room, the G-13 – it was the name given to our modification – and the AMX team were playing cards, telling stories and preparing today's meal. Usually one of our HQ tanks were watching over us, eventually taking part in games and task, while the two others were sleeping or spying outside. Ratrak liked to observe the mountains and made bets on where an avalanche would happen. He usually won those, but knowing mechanics and physic helped me to beat him. Once.

Once I arrived in the room, the Patton was here and immediately came to me.

"How are they?" he asked me.

"Alive" I answered quietly. "Only one of them could talk though. The other is still shocked."

"And what did he say? Do you know who they are, why they came?"

"They were a French clan, but the tank was too sad and shocked to answer questions about his clan. We have all winter to get informations from them anyway."

"Yeah. Well, so far nothing we didn't knew. Ask them again when they're able to answer things we don't know." the Patton said.

"Sir, yes sir!"

I then went to the kitchen, asking the chef what was on menu today. It may seem stupid as we only swallow fuel, but having someone preparing a "meal" is a real plus and it helps us keeping the morale while in the fortress. So instead of canned fuel, fuel in a bowl, fuel right from the tank, we had two guys preparing something more varied. And you guessed right, those guys are AMXs. Who else than French tanks could be chefs?

"Ah bonjour Alac! Coming for seeing what's ze dinner?" said Renaud, the old AMX. Renaud was the most experienced of the scout team, since Charles died years ago. He was one of those old, but happy and chill tanks. Killing wasn't a problem. Seeing tanks leak their oil when they get trapped wouldn't evoke a single emotion in this little French steel vehicle. He was only doing his job, and he was doing it well. It was only back at the base that he could let his personality out, and cooking was his passion.

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry! What's that fabulous meal you'll prepare tonight?" I answered cheerfully.

"I'm préparing one hot-cold meal! Ze snow just arrived and I thinked it was a good idea to celebrate it!" he told me. His accent couldn't hide his origins. Even though he's been here since the start, he was clearly made in France. I am not saying my accent was perfect either, but us Swiss learn English far before French, and it is much more important for work in the country.

"Oh hell yeah! Hot-cold meal, that's the stuff!" I responded. Hot-cold meal, this stuff was awesome. It used a special container with three cases. The fuel was at the bottom and you had to pass through one of the two other cases to get it. Those two other cases are filled with boiling water in one and snow in the other. The whole thing was nicely isolated, so snow didn't melt from the boiling water, and the water didn't cool from the snow. The fuel is isolated as well. The only parts that weren't isolated were the pipes from the fuel passing through the cold snow or hot water. This made you either hot fuel or cold fuel, and you could mix them together and alternate it, and it never tasted the same!

"Aaha, I'm glad you like it! I put very much effort in making good food for you guys, I hope you like it!"

"Don't worry Renaud, we love your meals!"

"Glad to hear!" he giggled.

After that, waiting for the dinner to be ready, I went to check the periscopes. As I said, life under the snow was not exciting, quite boring indeed, so it was always nice to have prisoners and stuff to do. Looking through the periscope is one of those time consuming activities. I could stand for hours contemplating the white nature, and I thought it would be a good idea.

I could have never been more right.


	4. Light in the Snow

I casually looked through the mirrors of the periscope. I had a nice view of the road where we recently destroyed the French clan. As it was the first snow, the sun was hidden by a thick layer of clouds. It was low enough to hide the mountain tops, and sometimes, it provided a dense fog. Those conditions were not due to the snow - the place was simply like that, and we sometime had to fight in this fog. The HQ had to develop tricky plans to do so, but we usually got out of it without any additional casualties.

I was casually looking for the landscape under the snow, trying, like every winter, to understand where and when an avalanche would occur. Beside me, on another periscope – we had a lot of them around the base, those are quite small and stealthy from outside – Wallace, one of the engineer Centurions, was inspecting something more carefully.

"What are you looking for, Wallace?" I asked while trying to spot any trace of the last battle.

"Can you see the mountain pass? Please check it." he answered gravely.

I turned the device to face the top of the road. Everything seemed normal. I could barely see all the details because of the clouds just reaching this area. There was not enough to make it invisible though.

"Yeah I see it, what's up?"

"Don't notice anything unusual?" he asked.

"Uh, not really. Why, what did you see?"

"I'm really not sure mate. I thought... I guess it was just my imagination."

His answer made me uneasy. I was now more thinking about what he thought he saw than the upcoming meal. But I couldn't see anything. I didn't badger him about it though, because you didn't insist here, we were polite tanks. I tried to forget about it, but I was curious. We were still waiting for the dinner, night was not there yet, and I was anxiously checking the pass every now and then. I never saw anything.

Eventually our clocks rang dinner time. I was still worried, but I had my hot-cold bucket and a ration of "perfumed" fuel. Sipping through cold and hot pipes, I went to the periscope again. The excitement and temperature changes of the perfumed meal blurred my vision a bit and I wasn't able to see a lot. Night had fallen, but I was still trying to see something. Commander Nick, the Patton, came up next to me and asked me what I was trying to see all this time.

"Wallace thought he saw something earlier, I just wanna be sure it's nothing. But I don't see anything and well I have my meal so I feel... Uh... Too good to see clearly."

"Let me check" he said, forcing his way to the periscope. "Did you move the periscope from what you were trying to see?"

I just slurped some cold fuel.

"N-No, sir!"

"What were you trying to see and where was-"

He stopped his sentence, leaving me with half a question.

I didn't have time to answer he told me to pull myself together, focus and look again. I tried to do that and what I saw was some kind of light far away... I though it was my imagination doing me tricks until he told me:

"Do you see that spot of light?!"

The happiness I had from my meal suddenly disappeared, and the only taste I had left was bitter.

"Yes, I see it. Does that mean...?"

"I'm afraid so." He answered calmly, but gravely. "Don't finish your fuel, and tell the others. Code NL."

"Sir, yes sir!"

I quickly went to the speaker, leaving my bucket next to the periscope. The alert sounded in the whole base. Code NL, for Nachtlicht, or night light. Although we were not sure what it was, a spot of light in the dark night is not natural. Everybody left their meal promptly and went to their battle post. Most of us were just asked to regroup at the meeting room. But not me. In case of emergency, my first order was to get to the prisoners, brief them and take care of them as long as I don't receive any other order. When I arrived, both engineers were there. Wallace quickly came to me and I told him he was right earlier. The captured AMX were not really alarmed, in the best case they'd go free, in the worst case they'd die here. To the only one able to talk, that seemed to not matter anyway. To the other, he was still under shock and probably didn't notice the alarm. I briefed the demotivated AMX and waited here for any news.

I was able to keep track of the operations with my radio. The scouts took positions on various periscopes, to have the best view on the threat without risking to go out. Four G-13 took positions at the firing spots. Those were like small pillboxes. With a little opening to see and shoot, and a strong roof. They were also camouflaged into the landscape, dirt and grass were covering them in summer. In winter, like then, they were covered by the snow, but a smart air pulse could blow off a small window to shoot. We had emergency procedure for a lot of events, so the HQ knew what they should do, and they waited for any report from the AMX.

And Renaud reported, "I don't see anyssing moving. Zere is dat spot of light, but it is not moving. I don't see any tank. And zere is fog."

That was a good news. We then had time to think. The Hetzers positioned on the four shooting spots were replaced regularly. Winter nights are harsh, and the shooting spots, although they were "inside", were not isolated from temperature. It was a matter of not melting the snow covering them. As the threat seemed unwilling to move, the protection of the wounded were no longer a priority and HQ called me back to help. There is two important points in this procedure. One, we cannot let them advance. Two, we cannot kill them if they don't advance. In addition, it was winter and there was snow everywhere; it was a danger for us and for them, and we would not let them die in an avalanche. We shoot until the threat is averted, then we rescue the wounded. It may sound stupid, but this is our way of doing things, and we always did like that. This way, people understand they have close to no chance to pass through here, but also that we are not a threat to anyone respecting us.

My turn in the shooting spot came. I was in one of the highest of them, so if the snow was not covering it all I could had have a nice view on the light source. I radio checked with the scouts.

"Any news? How's the fog now?"

It was approximately four hours after the alert, midnight was close.

"I cannot see clearly. Zere is still clouds, as I cannot see any stars, but I fink zere is less fog. And nossing moved."

Less fog, so maybe I'd have a chance to see something. I opened the flap covering the opening of the pillbox – those have armored flaps for protection and better camouflage – and carefully, I poked the snow with my gun. That stuff's basically ice, so it was not the most enjoyable feeling to have on the tip of your gun. But I pushed some snow away and eventually made a hole the size of my muzzle brake. The cold had shrunk it a bit, and it would be foolish to shoot in such conditions, but I had now some kind of view on the outside.

To see what? There was indeed less fog, but still fog. We were pretty far away, and I was higher than the scouts. All I could see was a blurred orange light. As time passed my vision came back to normal, and I didn't noticed that earlier but that color is not one of tank lights. It was fire. From what, I had no idea. Maybe it was just an HE shell that exploded lately? No, that couldn't be, it wouldn't burn that long. It had to be a tank, or worse, a group. I bet they made a fire to warm them up during the night and continue their route on the morning.

I wasn't supposed to peek outside though, so I quietly notified Renaud and suggested that he could check the color of the light. He did not have a better view, but he had less fog. And what he was seeing was indeed orange. He thanked me for the idea and called the HQ to relay the news. Of course, the HQ was not discussing plans on the radio, so I had no idea what was their reaction. Maybe they already guessed it, but better safe than sorry.

It was now past midnight. My time in the freezing bunker was soon over and before I stuffed the hole with some snow, trying to avoid it to be seen, I watched the blurred orange spot once again. After I closed the flap, another G-13 opened the sealed steel door, a warm draft from the inside ran over my back. We quickly discussed the situation and I went inside, wishing good to my friends.

I didn't know why, but I had a bad feeling about this.


End file.
